The man once owned a mountain, which makes sense, considering that Bruce Heine’s view of what is possible reached higher and farther than most.

Heine saw the potential in people who didn’t see it in themselves. He saw the good sense in tackling huge projects that others thought impractical. And the former Ohio State baseball player, who last month lost his fight against cancer, saw that the best way to get through to a young athlete was by mixing humor with the deepest of human longings. People want to be loved, and my goodness, how Heine loved his players.

“He was a great guy with a big heart who touched a lot of different people in so many positive ways,” said Casey Close, a sports agent from Dublin who played summer-league baseball under Heine and remained friends with his former coach until Heine’s death on Sept. 11 at age 67. “Bruce enjoyed life and always looked at the glass as half full.”

Even when the glass was cracked and leaking.

About that mountain: Decades ago, Heine went in with investors from his hometown of Upper Arlington to buy a piece of a mountain range in Arizona. The deal eventually went terribly sour, shackling Heine for years to come. But only those closest to him ever heard him mention the financial setback. Heine, a man of deep faith, handled the hurt with his typical grace and strength of character.

“When it didn’t work out, you didn’t hear much about it,” said Tim Saunders, the longtime Dublin Coffman baseball coach who more than once hired Heine as his assistant, most recently last season as Heine struggled with his illness and the death of his wife, Lynn, in August 2012. It is no coincidence that Saunders’ humanitarian gesture was prompted in part by Heine’s own acts of generosity through the years.

The man could give.

Heine was a driving force and chief fundraiser for the Ohio State baseball facility, Bill Davis Stadium, which opened in 1997. He coached the Warhawks Babe Ruth All-Star team, winning several state championships, and also coached the Delaware Cows college-age summer team.

The man also knew how to receive, playing second base on the Buckeyes’ 1966 NCAA national-championship team and catching the final popout in the clinching game.

Heine graduated from Columbus North in 1964 before heading to Ohio State, where he also received his law degree in 1971.

The man was intelligent.

Heine was a baseball man at heart, but he chewed on philosophy more than tobacco and spit out anecdotes more than sunflower seeds.

As friend Rick Parcher put it, “He was the master of the carefully crafted story.”

Once, during a tournament in Beckley, W.Va., Heine called Parcher to report: “It has rained for forty days and forty nights, and the full extent of their field coverage is a piece of Saran Wrap on the pitcher’s mound.”

Heine also used parables to make his points.

“From baseball to life, and life to baseball,” Saunders said, describing how Heine relied more on funny stories and wise sayings than on fundamentals to help players understand baseball situations.

Close, who spoke at Heine’s funeral, considers his former coach the kind of person you never forget, because you never want to forget.

“He was a funny person with a good sense of humor, and he infused that humor into his teaching lessons,” said Close, who played at Michigan and spent several years in triple-A before becoming an agent whose clients include Derek Jeter. “But he also was a feisty competitor ... which allowed him to play on that (Ohio State) national-championship team.”

It did not matter to Heine that Close became a Wolverine. His love and respect for his former player cut through school colors.

That said, Heine was scarlet and gray to the core. And he came by his love for Ohio State honestly.

His father, Richard, composed and arranged much of the music for the Ohio State Marching Band, including the chimes that lead off Carmen Ohio. Bruce was incredibly proud of his father and deeply indebted to his alma mater. Among his prized possessions were two photographs in his home: One was of TBDBITL forming “Bruce” as a welcome to then-Ohio State coach Earle Bruce, the other of the band spelling “Heine,” to honor Richard.

Bruce/Heine. You could not find a more fitting, if unintentional, tribute to the former Ohio State baseball player, encouraging youth coach and erudite dugout presence.